


The Mortification of Being Known

by call-me-cee (cls1606)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Gen, Qui-Gon Jinn's A+ Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28262121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cls1606/pseuds/call-me-cee
Summary: A little fluff while the Opress twins, Obi-Wan, and Bant make their way to a rendezvous.
Relationships: Feral/CC-3636 | Wolffe, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Darth Maul
Comments: 17
Kudos: 117
Collections: Star Wars Secret Santa 2020





	The Mortification of Being Known

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elouanwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elouanwrites/gifts).



> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone, but especially to Hawks for organizing the Star Wars Secret Santa 2020 and to my gift recipient elouanwrites! I hope you like it! 😊✌🏻

“You know, I could’ve accomplished this perfectly fine on my own.”

Maul ignores him, flipping switches to maintain their course and speed through hyperspace. 

“I’m serious. You don’t have to tag along every time. I’m not a child.”

At that, Maul turns to face him in the co-pilot’s chair and leans back smugly. “Cato Neimoidia.”

Obi-Wan splutters, “That doesn’t count! There were _extenuating circumstances_.”

“Of course there were. They’re called _Obi-Wan always steps in bantha-poodoo_.”

“ _What?_ You’re not too big for me to kick your shebs. You know that, right?”

Maul scoffs and turns back to the console. “You haven’t been able to effectively kick _anything_ since we were padawans.” 

“Is that so?” Obi-Wan makes a grab for Maul’s horns and barely manages to catch one as Maul ducks. 

By the time Feral opens the cockpit doors to ask if they want any food, Maul and Obi-Wan are wrestling furiously on the floor. 

He watches his twin and their former crechemate for a few moments, finally sighing and shaking his head as he walks back to the tiny kitchen where Bant is ladeling some sort of red stew into two bowls. “They’re going to be awhile,” he calls as he enters. 

“Did they come to blows again?” Bant doesn’t even turn around. 

“Yeah.”

“Some things never change.” 

Feral slides onto one of the benches. “I think Master Qui-Gon hoped that Obi-Wan would eventually stop letting Maul get under his skin.”

“Master Qui-Gon has always had _opinions_ about Obi’s friendships,” Bant replies tartly as she brings the bowls of stew to the table. She places one in front of Feral and situates herself and her own bowl across from him. “He can feel free to take up those opinions with the Mind Healers at the main temple any time he likes.” 

With a chuckle, Feral blows on his spoonful of stew. “I’m sure we’d hear all about it before shift was even over.” 

He knows they wouldn’t. The oath of aid and confidence that he and all his fellow Healers took was sacrosanct. But there would definitely be some side-eyes and stealthy mutters if Master Qui-Gon ever showed up again at the medical wing. When Maul and Quinlan had discovered that Obi-Wan had been abandoned on Bandomeer they’d immediately gone to their own Masters. Master Tholme hadn’t been able to do much more than rage at the Council via hologram, but Master Windu had just been put _on_ the Council. Feral thinks privately that their old friendship is the only thing that saved Qui-Gon’s metaphorical skin that day. Certainly if Feral hadn’t known to lock Maul in their room while that meeting was happening it would’ve been more than metaphorical guts on the floor. Feral had been tempted himself, Maul’s fury blending with his own anger as they sat on their beds and determinedly didn’t speak. Even Savage, back at the Temple for the first time in months, hadn’t been able to get Feral and Maul to come out. Feral smiles over his caf, remembering the relief he felt when Obi-Wan was finally back home and Maul’s anger had given way. They’d been cute, clinging to each other as if determined that nothing could ever shake them apart again. (Unfortunately, that truly impressive outburst of rage had prompted Master Windu to take Maul away from the Temple for a time for more intense meditation and training. Then it was Obi-Wan’s turn to be bereft, although Feral couldn’t hope to soothe him the way he did Maul.) 

Bant interrupts his nostalgia trip. “What’s got you in such a good mood?” 

“Just thinking about those two idiots. Sometimes I think they’re less mature now than when we were all crechelings.” 

“I beg your pardon,” Obi-Wan’s offended voice comes through the doorway just moments before the man himself. “I don’t think one can actually regress in maturity.” The irony of that statement seems lost on him as he continues straightening his clothing. 

Feral shares a long-suffering look with Bant. “Whatever you say.”

“I do say. Oh, stew!” He ambles over to the small stove and begins enthusiastically ladeling food into a bowl. “It smells delicious, Bant. Thank you.”

“Leave some for Red, please,” Bant chides mildly. She’s not fooled by his clumsy attempt to change the topic. 

“To the victor go the spoils,” Obi-Wan sniffs in reply. 

“Did you cheat?” Feral asks. 

“Of course he cheated,” Bant responds before Obi-Wan can even turn.

“I did _not_ ,” he bursts out. 

“You always cheat.” 

“It’s not _cheating_ , it’s _maneuvering_. Some might even call it _intelligent tactics_ ,” Obi-Wan spits out. He makes his way to the table carefully, balancing an extremely full bowl with two hands. Possibly this intense concentration is what keeps him from catching himself when a Force pull jerks his legs backwards and up, causing his soup to go flying as he effectively faceplants onto the decking. Bant and Feral roar with laughter. 

“ _Ma-ul_ ,” Obi-Wan whines as the Feral’s brother calmly steps into the room. 

“All’s fair,” Maul intones dryly, stepping over Obi-Wan’s mess to reach the stovetop. 

“Not when it comes to laundry,” comes a grumble from the floor. 

Bant finally regains some control over her giggles. “You had better hurry, then. We’re due to rendezvous with the Wolfpack in under three hours.” 

“Why are we _all_ coming, again?” Obi-Wan asked. He deftly caught the rag Maul tossed him and started mopping up his mess. 

Maul leaned against the counter, choosing to stand and eat rather than join Feral and Bant at the table. “We all know why _Feral_ is here,” he glowers darkly. 

“Excuse me?!” Feral exclaims indignantly. “I am checking the status of a patient.”

“Former patient,” Bant corrects. “Don’t worry, Red. He’s bit gruff but he’s a very nice young man. Feral has good judgment.” 

Feral blushes furiously, and it’s a toss-up as to whether it’s more from Bant’s praise or the mortification of his brother’s (and therefore, Obi-Wan’s) insistence on making a _completely transparent_ decision to refuel with the Wolfpack on their way to the Outer Rim. 

“We’ll see,” Maul growls into his stew. 

“You worry too much.” Obi-Wan tosses the soaked rag at Maul, who catches it but can’t avoid the splatter of stew across his face. 

“I am not worried.” 

“Right, right.” As he makes his way out of the kitchen toward the laundry, Obi-Wan calls out, “You better save me some stew!” 

Feral rolls his eyes. His family is so dramatic. Thank the little gods he didn’t inherit any of that nonsense. 

**Author's Note:**

> Let it be known, Feral absolutely did inherit that overdramatic nonsense. Mayhap I shall someday prove it by writing how he met Wolffe. 😜 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Wishing you all a safe, joyful holiday season. 🥰


End file.
